


11:58 PM_Bucky

by ProgressivelyAggressiveCap



Series: Constructive Pillow Talk [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Nightmares, Sanctimonious Steve, but it helps Bucky, on his soapbox, war imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 19:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18105116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProgressivelyAggressiveCap/pseuds/ProgressivelyAggressiveCap
Summary: Bucky dreams a memory of war (not that war). Steve distracts him (no, not with sex ;)





	11:58 PM_Bucky

Bucky’s gut is wrecked as he lets out another shot. Taking out another US soldier who is surely no more than 19 years old. 

Bucky had been 25 when he was shipped off to war. Ancient in comparison. 

Bucky knew that (this time) he was dreaming. But he was still screaming in a fiery, napalm soaked jungle of Vietnam. Screaming at himself to wake up. Screaming for the lives he took, but also for the atrocities he witnessed at the hands of US forces. The mayhem he stoked and the cruelty that it fed. He screamed because no matter how hard he fought his programming, he always reported back to his handlers. And they were always satisfied. 

———

Finally, Bucky comes awake. Was he actually screaming? 

Steve is awake, too. Looking at him with knowing and gentle eyes. Steve reaches for Bucky. They’ve done this enough nights that Steve knows not to try to wake him. Bucky would rather the nightmare continue than to again wake with his hands around Steve’s neck. 

“Need a minute.” Bucky murmurs as he sits up, crookedly hanging his legs off the edge of the bed. Bucky reaches his right hand back to clasp Steve’s hand. 

They sit. 

“It was a new one. 

"Vietnam. 

"Killing US troops to lead them to villages without soldiers. They would retaliate, take out their pain and fear on unarmed people... children...” 

Steve listens. He is patient for Bucky. As horrible as his stories are, Steve knows he must wait for him. 

“What have I done, Steve? What is the point? It was so easy to turn people. Make them do horrible things.” 

Bucky turns to Steve. “It just so easy,” he says. Bucky looks despondent. Past the point of anger. Simply sad at the cruelty possible. 

“Will it ever stop? Will we ever learn?” 

So much for lobbing Steve a softball in the middle of the night. But when is it the right time for societal crisis-management? 

“I don’t know.” Steve replies earnestly. “It sometimes seems futile - the fight. And perhaps our tactics should change. But persistence is the only way I’ve seen things change for the better. The road of forgiveness, kindness, and compassion is so much harder. It requires reflection and thought, while rage alone is easy. But it’s blind - and it’s destructive. You taught me that, Bucky.” 

Steve continues, “I was so angry. I picked fights. Usually good ones with bullies and creeps. But you gave me balance. Pulled me back from getting myself killed. Showed me that rage alone couldn’t get the job done.” 

“And yet you still found a way into the war," Bucky chides, halfheartedly. "Still tried to get yourself killed, you little shit. Still thought using your heart and your brain wasn’t enough, that you had to physically sacrifice yourself. What the fuck, Steve?” 

“Because other people were dying. Why should I have been any different? Why was I more deserving to live when I probably only had a few more years left anyway? If anyone was going to die over there it should have been me, someone who already outlived his life expectancy. Not guys like you who had so much life still to live.” 

Bucky heats up. God Steve can be stupid sometimes. “You know that’s ridiculous.” He says. “You reached so many more people with your art and your protesting than I ever did. You talked about what was right and had impact way beyond your years. You deserved to live just as much, no matter how long it would have been.” 

“Ah, so you think I changed things?” Steve smirks. 

Bucky gives in. He leans down, putting his forehead on Steve’s. Clamping his eyes shut. “I guess thats why you’re Captain America.” 

“Smartass,” Steve says. 

Bucky puts his head down on Steve’s chest, tension abating. 

“But what can we hope for now?” Bucky asks. 

“That I’m not so sure about. The hatred out there is potent. Talk about the constraints of toxic masculinity." 

"Someone’s been doing his gender studies reading..." Bucky replies. 

"Can you imagine if we weren’t queer and didn’t live in this city? If we didn't have the power and privilege to live like we do? We aren’t stuck adhering to some batshit idea of being a “man’s man,” like that’s a thing. No doubt things are better than they were in our day, but the anger people feel about other people being different. Having to look at someone - god forbid - with purple hair or being so obsessed with what sex organs are in some strangers pants... 

"Clinging to some twisted idea of tradition while forgetting that straight men used to hold hands, slavery was also a “tradition”, and that “under God” wasn’t added to the pledge of allegiance until the 1970s. 

"Separating asylum seekers from their kids. Turning a blind eye to child rape. Police brutality. Redlining. Fucking Nazis. That’s the shit to get upset about." 

Bucky chuckles. "You know nothing turns me on like you getting up on your soapbox." 

“Shut up," Steve replies. "Now I’m the one all worked up.” 

“It is the best way to help me get over my fucked up memories. Oh please, Stevie, tell me about all your plans to avenge.” 

Bucky laughs. He’s lighter. He knows this man will always out drama him. And he loves it. 

They know they won’t solve institutional racism tonight. The dread from Bucky’s dream has slipped away. Somehow they get to talking about the 1938 Dodgers, continuing to bicker even with their eyes closed. Neither one is sure who gets the last word in, but they drift to a sound sleep with plans to overthrow the patriarchy pushed off until tomorrow.


End file.
